I thought it would be too painful to go like that. Watching your blood seep out of your wrists, cutting up and down across your arm… it just didn’t seem like the right way. I mean, hell, I was terrified of needles. A straight-on razor blade would make me piss me pants in fear. Oh, that’d be a sight. I could read the headlines now – Boy Suicide – Pants Found Wet at the Scene. I couldn’t even die with dignity. Well, I guess that’s the way you’re supposed to die if you commit suicide. Without dignity.

“But I don’t see what’s the problem here!”
“It’s just not working any more, Tom. There isn’t that same spark. We lost it, and it’s not coming back.”
“That’s not true, you can’t say that’s true.”
“But isn’t it? You can’t honestly say that now is like then. We argue too much now, don’t enjoy each other enough… you know we’re better off not seeing each other at all.”
“But I still love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Not anymore. Just… not anymore.”
“How could you say that?”
“Please, Tom, don’t make this harder than it already is. We had good times, let’s just end it on good terms.”
“But my mind, my heart, it doesn’t want it to end, so there’s no terms at all on which to end it! You have to want it to end to be able to end it on good terms!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, because it’s ending regardless.”

Then there was “over-dosing.” On what, though? The popular drug is Tylenol, I guess, but I’d read so many stories about horrific experiences of stomach poisoning. It was almost as if no matter how bad life was, it couldn’t be worth ending by having my body be agonized to that extent. Besides, there was a good chance I could survive by having my body rushed and my stomach pumped. Then what? I’d be a failure at suicide? I couldn’t even properly kill myself? No thanks, if I were going to kill myself, I’d make sure it wasn’t in a way that I couldn’t properly carry through on.

“Dude, forget about her, she’s not worth it.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, I really mean it, Tom. You’re so much better; you’re smarter, you’re funnier, you’re just a better person.”
“I said, ‘fuck you.’”
“Look, I’m trying to help you, you don’t need to rip my head off.”
“Sorry. It’s just that… I feel so empty now. It’s like a fucking part of me isn’t there anymore, and whatever I do, I can’t fill that void.”
“You will, Tom. You will. It just takes time.”
“How much time?”
“Enough time that when you find that someone to fill that void, that someone can fill that void even more completely than she can.”

I could shoot myself. But again, with what? I didn’t own a gun. My father didn’t own a gun. My friends didn’t own a gun. Besides, when the time came, and I had to pull that trigger, I’d just pussy out. I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to end my own life, no matter how shitty it is. I’d clutch that handle, with all those bitter thoughts flashing through my head, and yet I still wouldn’t be able to move my index finger just a couple millimeters to end it all. As horrible as those images were of her seeing other guys, the images of my brain spread out on the floor and a circle of blood all around me was more gruesome. No, I couldn’t shoot myself.

“I’m sure she still loves you.”
“No, she doesn’t. If she did, she’d talk to me about getting back together again.”
“Maybe she’s having difficulty expressing herself.”
“What’s to express? You just walk up and say, ‘Hey, I still like you, let’s try again.’ I’m missing the difficult part.”
“You know, maybe this is why she doesn’t want to be with you. You’re just an ass now.”
“Aren’t you supposed to cheer me up?”
“It’s kinda hard to when you take everything I say and make it negative.”
“That’s because everything you say is negative.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m sorry, I meant everything in this world is negative.”

There could also be two different types of suicide notes. I could try for the “fuck-the-world” approach, or the “good-bye-world” approach. Or maybe a combination of both. Problem is, when I had to make a decision, I don’t know which one I’d say to her. Fuck you, or good-bye? You caused this, or I couldn’t live without you? Burn in Hell, or join me in Heaven one day? That is, if I go to Heaven. Maybe God would understand. Nobody else does.

“Tom, listen to me. Listen to me. Are you listening?”
“Chrissakes, I’m depressed, not deaf. What?”
“I know she meant a lot to you, but you don’t need her. Do you understand?”
“Oh, what do you know.”
“I know a lot. I’ve had experience. When I broke up with Sally, it was devastating too, but I got over it. When she started dating Josh, I got over it. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, Tom, you just gotta try and get through to that end to see it.”
“It just doesn’t seem like it’ll ever get better.”
“We’re in high school, Tom, of course it’ll get better. A year from now, you won’t even remember her name, you’ll be so drunk off your ass in college. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha.”

Then there’s always life. The hope that things will get better, even if it seems like it never will. It’s similar to the hope we share amongst us all that we’ll be able to live in peace one day, a world free of terror; it may seem difficult, almost impossible, to keep that hope sometimes, but we dare not let it extinguish. We dare not.

Razor blades, pills, suicide notes… those aren’t the answer. The answer lies within my reach; it lies within everyone’s reach. It’s optimism, no matter how unjustified it is, that prevails within each of us to hope.

Because there is just so much to live for, and nothing is important enough to keep you from experiencing them. There’s getting your first apartment, buying your first car, working your first job, owning your first home, marrying your first (and hopefully only) wife, raising your first child, naming your first dog, starting your first college fund for your kids, settling down in the first years of retirement.

Everyone hears about the stories of human misery and suffering, but not many are aware of the incredible tales of human triumph and accomplishment. Not being consumed in our day-to-day affairs – that’s triumph right there. Helping one another and caring for strangers – that’s an accomplishment. Every time you think this world is going to hell because of what’s happening in your life and the world around us, think about everything that is going right - that kid holding that door open for that elderly woman, or that genuine question of ‘How was your day?’ from your neighbor.

So I’m putting away those dark thoughts. I’m just going to sleep, and wake up and face another day. I’m going to hope, because that’s all I have left some days, and sometimes, that’s just enough to keep me going.

“Tom?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe I’d like to try again.”
“Yeah. I’d like that too.”

Hope you had a decent read.
Ciao,
- WarLeaderJustin